March 31, 2000

I'd forgotten this little snippet of conversation Mary and I had at the Ocean. It was quite unique in it's random charm. Viz:

The setting: Mary and me sitting sitting in my car by the sea. (The curious reader would refer to scene 22.)

Mary: If you had it to do over again, where would you live?

Me: If I had what to do over again?

Mary: Life.

Me: But I'm alive.

Mary: Just pretend.

Me: (Pause) I don't know.

Mary: (Long pause) Well, "I" would want to live by a really big body of water. (Pause) Or maybe a major university with lots of trees.

Me: (Laugh. She looks up. I clear my thoat.) Near the highway?

Mary: Nope. I wouldn't have a car, so I wouldn't need any highway.

Me: How would you get home?

Mary: I'd walk.

Me: Roads make good markers, even if you're walking. Think you'd be able to find your house in the distance?

Mary: Maybe not. But sometimes it's good just to get good and lost. (Looks to me.) Were you ever good and lost?

Me: I'm good and lost right now.

(Mary Me, Mary Me, Mary Me, Mary Me. Well, Freud would be amused...)